


a page of beautiful youth

by luckyday



Series: some people say love [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Minor Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin, Minor Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix, They're Still Very Gay And Very Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-20 22:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckyday/pseuds/luckyday
Summary: It's not that Minho's meant to shut Jisung out of the part of his life that revolves around dance, at least not on purpose. The problem is that every time he tries to open up and share it with him, he finds himself pulling back, holding it close to his chest. He loves dancing. He loves Jisung.He is absolutely terrified of those two things finally meeting and backfiring on him.-Or, the one where Minho learns several lessons about vulnerability and maybe gets some kisses along the way.





	a page of beautiful youth

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be between 5k and 10k and was my thank you for 1k kudos on SSLC..... well. that kind of fell through on both fronts, huh. if you thought SSLC was a disgustingly tropey fluffy mess, this is a hundred times worse and probably very messy because it's a lot about Feelings and me just repeatedly hitting minho over the head with the concept of vulnerability being an okay thing.
> 
> so, this is a direct sequel to "so sweet like chocolate". SSLC is also a 71k monster, so i tried my best to write this with that in mind. this can standalone, but definitely benefits from having read SSLC.
> 
> title from ["time of our life" by day6!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnS_jn2uibs)

“I just realized,” Changbin says one afternoon, the two of them sitting on opposite ends of the crummy little couch in their apartment, “Jisung’s never seen you dance.” 

Minho stops midway through lifting a chip to his mouth, the hand absently scrolling through cat pictures on his phone pausing as he turns to look at his roommate. “That’s not true.” 

Well, not entirely. 

Jisung’s seen him dance, technically. Minho’s shown him videos, ranging from recent ones to all the way back from middle school when he first started dancing. He’d cringed rewatching them, every error and imperfection obvious to him as he analyzed his clumsy teenage self stumble its way through choreographies he’d have mastered in a day or two now. 

(“Cute,” Jisung had whispered when he finally played them for him two weeks after they started dating, the two of them crammed together on the tiny bed in Jisung’s dorm room. 

The time together hasn't lessened the way that word on Jisung’s lips hits like a sucker punch Minho is in no way equipped to deal with when directed at him. 

When Jisung noticed and reached up to touch Minho’s cheeks where they were warming up with a giggle, Minho had simply retaliated by rolling over onto his boyfriend and crushing the daylights out of him, and _maybe_ he’d followed it up with well-placed kisses to shut him up before he could get to teasing him about how easily Jisung is able to fluster him. 

Not like either of them would complain about the turn of events. Never in a million years.) 

So yeah, Jisung has seen Minho dance. Maybe not in person, but the way Jisung watches the screen of Minho’s laptop with eyes full of something torn between awe and _hunger_ when he shows him newer videos is overwhelming enough that Minho can’t even begin to imagine how Jisung’s reaction to seeing him dance in person would make him feel. 

“Videos don’t count,” Changbin cuts in like he’s just read his mind, and Minho curses his roommate for knowing him so well. 

“They do,” Minho argues, and Changbin snorts. 

“They don’t. Honestly, what’s up with you? I thought you’d be jumping at the chance to show off to your boyfriend,” Changbin says, and almost a month in and that word— _boyfriend_, Han Jisung, his _boyfriend_— still makes Minho’s heart do a weird flip that definitely goes against the suave image he likes to portray. 

(Keyword: portray. As much as he’d love to be a cool, unruffleable man of endless wit and charm, Jisung has proven time and time again to be a wrecking ball that never fails to expose Minho’s soft and vulnerable interior.) 

“He already knows I’m a great dancer,” Minho says breezily, which makes Changbin frown. 

“He does, so I’m sure he’d love to see it in person.” Changbin shifts, turning to face Minho directly and bringing his legs up so he’s sitting cross-legged on the couch. “It’s like you’re avoiding showing him in person.” 

“I’m not,” he says instantly, and Changbin narrows his eyes. 

“You are, aren’t you?” Fuck Changbin, Minho decides. Fuck him for always seeing through him and not being afraid to call him out for his bullshit. “Are you scared?” 

Minho gives Changbin a withering look, which only serves to make his roommate’s eyes glimmer knowingly. 

“Fuck, Minho, I didn’t think dancing would ever be something you’d be scared to share, especially with someone you like so much,” Changbin says, and despite the poking and prodding there’s a genuine attentiveness to his best friend’s words that cracks his defenses. “Dancing is the most important thing in the world to you and you’re good at it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you shy about that before now.” 

“Yeah, well,” Minho starts, dropping his gaze down to the floor, “that’s the problem.” 

Changbin stares at him for a moment before it seems to click into place. “Is that it? You’re worried Jisung isn’t going to like your dancing?” 

“Less that and more… what if he’s not interested or he’s bored?” Minho asks slowly. That’s so much worse to him than Jisung not liking his dancing. 

“Jisung likes you and he _very_ clearly is attracted to you,” Changbin says dryly. “I’m sure he’ll be interested.” 

That’s true. Jisung’s dating him, afterall. He’s seen the way Jisung watches the few videos he’s shown him. But at the same time— 

“Him thinking I’m hot doesn’t mean he’ll actually be interested in me dancing,” he says. 

“Oh,” Changbin says, then blinks. “You’re scared he won’t actually care about your dancing?” 

Minho simply shrugs. 

“I get why you’re worrying. Dancing’s really important to you. It makes sense to be nervous about opening up and showing that to someone you care about.” Changbin leans back against the arm of the couch with a small frown before reaching out with a black-clad foot to prod at Minho’s thigh, the corner of his mouth twitching up with the hint of a smile. “It doesn’t help that we both know you have problems with vulnerability.” 

“Shut up,” Minho says, batting Changbin’s foot away. 

Changbin’s smile spreads across his face and it’s undeniably amused and fond. “But for the record, I think you have to be vulnerable at some point. You love dancing. You love Jisung. The two things have gotta meet at some point, Minho, or else you’re just going to keep being stressed about this.” 

Minho scowls. “I don’t like when you make sense.” 

“Makes it hard to argue with me, doesn’t it?” Changbin says with a laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, Jisung’s crazy about you. He seems like the kind of person to care about whatever you care about because it makes you happy.” 

Minho fiddles with the loose thread on the hem of his shirt. “What if he just pretends?” 

Changbin sighs. “You’re just overthinking at this point, Minho. Honestly, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

“Why did you even ask?” Minho squints over at Changbin, making the other boy shrug. 

“You’ve been practicing at the dance studio more lately, don’t you guys have a showcase coming up?” Changbin tilts his head. 

“Two weeks,” Minho replies slowly, a creeping sense of dread settling over him. He knows where this is going. 

“Right,” Changbin says. “You know I always go to your showcases if I can. I don’t know shit about dancing but I like supporting you— because you’re my _best friend_— and it’s cool to see you doing something you’re so passionate about.” 

“I know what you’re going to say,” Minho says, and Changbin snorts. 

“Good, because it’s not like I’m fucking hinting at it. Besides, you’re going to play dumb if I don’t say it outright, so let me say it,” Changbin shoots back, and Minho wrinkles his nose. “You should invite Jisung to your showcase. He’ll get to see something you worked hard on and you can just get this over with.” 

“But—” Minho starts but Changbin pointedly turns away from him and picks his phone back up again. 

“Relationships are fucking terrifying sometimes, Minho. I get that. But the fact of the matter is you’re going to have to share that part of yourself with Jisung eventually if this is something you want to commit to,” Changbin says, already scrolling through his feed again. 

“Of course I want to,” Minho says quickly, firmly. Of course he does. That doesn’t make him any less anxious. 

“I know you do,” Changbin reassures, glancing up at him again for a moment. “Just… it’s hard, but you have to, okay? Not just for you but for both of you.” 

“Fuck,” Minho says finally, letting out a long sigh. “I really, really hate it when you say things that make sense. I can’t stress that enough.” 

Changbin laughs. “That's why you need me around. I play along with your shit but set you right when you really need it.” 

“Whatever,” he grumbles, which they both know is Minho speak for _you’re right, thank you Changbin for always having my back, you’re my best friend and I love and appreciate you so very much_. 

Changbin gives him a fond, knowing look in return. 

“You know, Hyunjin’s performing too,” Minho says in a completely innocent and untargeted segue that’s not at all a petty jab in his best friend’s direction for digging into his vulnerabilities no matter how needed it was, no way. 

“Oh, you’re a bastard,” Changbin says flatly, and Minho smiles sweetly at him. “You are a bastard.” 

“I just think that hypothetically if I’m going to share my passions with my boyfriend when I’m nervous about it, the least you could do is ask the guy you’ve been starry-eyed over for months out on one date,” Minho says, leaning his chin on his hand. He likes the way things have turned. He likes being able to hit back. 

“Oh, you are _really_ not one to talk,” Changbin says. 

“I actually am,” Minho shoots back with a smile. “I already went through that shit, I know firsthand how you need to just do it or else things get needlessly complicated.” 

“Which is a lesson you still haven’t learned to apply to other things, apparently,” Changbin bites back. Ouch. It’s true, but ouch. 

“I’m just trying to help,” Minho says innocently, holding up his hands in front of his chest. 

“No, you’re trying to be a bastard because I’m making sure you confront your feelings,” Changbin says. 

“True,” Minho relents, “but I’m also helping you confront _your_ feelings. Not always pleasant to have them shoved in your face, is it?” 

Changbin glares at him. For a moment, Minho worries that he took being a pest too far and Changbin is actually mad it him for pushing. Then the other boy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Fine. You win. I’ll ask Hyunjin out after the showcase.” 

Minho laughs at that. “Why the showcase? Why are we making the showcase the big event in this household?” 

Changbin shakes his head. “Because apparently I don’t know how to stay away from dancers, be it as crushes or annoying best friends, and if he’s anything like you his schedule is probably packed enough getting ready that he doesn’t need me jumping that on him right now. It can wait until after.” 

“But you’ll do it?” He can’t help the glee that creeps into his voice. He honestly didn’t think his prodding would actually work— like Changbin said, he was just being a bastard for making him confront his feelings. But hey, if this works out he’ll still absolutely take credit for it. 

Changbin groans. “Yes, yes I’ll fucking do it.” 

“Great!” Minho says, picking up the tube of chips he sat down earlier. “I’m gonna invite my boyfriend to my showcase and you’re gonna ask your crush out. We’re going to be so fucking vulnerable in this household in two weeks.” 

“I don’t like that you’re talking like this is some sort of bonding experience,” Changbin says. 

“It kind of is,” Minho says, taking a bite of a chip. 

“It really isn’t.” 

“It definitely is.” 

\---

Minho almost does it over messages right after Changbin leaves to go on his shift. Maybe that would be easier. He just has to type the words and hit send and then it’s over, Jisung can reply how he wants. The problem is it freaks him out thinking about getting left on read with something like this, so he doesn’t. 

To be honest, he can’t get over how stupid he feels. He knows Changbin is right. This is something he has to open up about to Jisung if he expects to be with him— and god, what an idiot he’d be if he shut this brilliant boy out just because he’s scared. All the months of pining and running themselves in circles figuring out their feelings for nothing. 

He really, really doesn’t want that. 

He also can’t magically make his anxiety go away, so that sucks. 

It’s not like he actually expects Jisung to dislike his dancing or be uninterested, really. Jisung’s a good person— a great person— and Changbin is right, he seems like the kind of guy to enjoy something as long as it makes someone he cares about happy. Changbin definitely wasn’t wrong when he picked up on Minho’s nerves about Jisung being interested, but if he’s really honest with himself, that’s only one of the problems. 

This isn’t about Jisung. 

When he gets right down to it, this is about Minho. Minho and the way the thought of opening up, letting someone see just how much something like dancing means to him, terrifies the absolute shit out of him. It’s not a secret that he’s bad with vulnerability. Hell, getting to the point where he tried to ask Jisung out was him being pushed to the brink by desperation— and the mortification when it went wrong at first had nearly killed him, his brain backpedaling away from baring his feelings like that and playing it off as something that wasn’t serious. It was serious, of course. His feelings for Jisung have always been serious, at least for as long as he remembers having actual _feelings_ beyond ‘the cute guy from the library’. 

The truth is, as much as Minho primps and preens when people praise his dancing (a natural, one of the best in the program right now, effortless) it’s definitely not effortless. It definitely doesn’t come naturally. He plays it off, sure, laughs and boasts when they compliment him, but in the back of his head there’s always a guilty little voice that reminds him that he’s not a star or prodigy; he’s a guy that stays up until two in the morning replaying recordings of his practices looking at all his flaws, who wakes up from stress dreams more often than he’d like to admit, who overworks himself to the point where he made himself physically sick back in autumn. He’s a guy who gets so overwhelmed trying to live up to everyone’s expectations that he sometimes he could cry. 

(But he doesn’t cry, because then that makes him feel worse. Like he can’t handle this. He can handle this. Mostly.) 

For most people, it’s fine for them to see Minho dance. He’s fine with it, really. It’s okay. He’s proud of how hard he works. He’s proud of how good he is at it now. The problem is, Jisung isn’t most people. Jisung is a sweet, lovely guy who sees right through him far too easily. 

If he’s really honest with himself, a giant part of the reason he’s been holding Jisung at arms length when it comes to his dancing is he’s terrified of being seen for what he really is: an imposter. 

Not like Jisung doesn’t know he’s a fool who wears a mask of suave, unruffleable snark to hide his vulnerabilities. Jisung figured that out far too easily for his liking. That’s kind of the problem, actually. The minute Minho shows more of himself to Jisung, it’s like Jisung takes that new piece and puts him together like a puzzle. It’s unnerving for someone who’s scared of not living up to expectations. 

Jisung thinks he’s a cool, amazing dancer. Jisung thinks it’s natural for him, because that’s all Minho’s given him so far. If he lets him closer, lets him into that part of his life, he _knows_ Jisung will connect the pieces and realize just how much he struggles, how much he builds himself up to make up for how anxious he is about not being good enough. If he’s not this amazing person Jisung’s built up in his head— that Minho let him build up in his head— then what is he? What’s special about him? What’s to like about him? 

And that’s it, if he really has to sum it up. 

He knows Jisung will see him, really see him just like he always does, and he’s so terrified that Jisung won’t like what he sees. 

To say Minho feels like the world’s biggest idiot is an understatement. He likes to think he’s good at keeping his feelings under control and focusing on logic to reel them in, but it’s so hard for him to do that now. It makes it so much worse that he can feel himself spiraling and knowing there’s next to nothing he can do to stop it except ride it out and hope his brain shuts off the emotions switch by itself so he can reset and go back to normal. 

When his phone rings in the middle of the part of his breakdown where he’s spent at least an hour mindlessly scrolling through cooking videos, he almost laughs when Jisung’s name and picture appears on the screen. 

(It’s a new one, one they took together a few days after they got together. The lighting is awful, it’s too dark, their heads are crammed together, and the Minho in the picture is halfway through a laugh because of something Jisung said. Jisung has a beanie pulled over his blonde hair, his usual heart-shaped smile on full display. He loves it. Minho loves it. Minho loves him.) 

Jisung certainly has great timing, he’ll give him that. 

He clears his throat before he picks up, making sure his voice is normal. “Sungie?” 

“Hi!” Jisung’s chipper voice rings through the phone, and Minho can’t help but smile at the sound despite himself. “Sorry to call so late.” 

Minho glances over at the clock on his bedside table, surprised to find that it’s nearly eleven. He hadn’t even noticed, too caught up in his own head. “Ah, it’s okay. What’s up?” 

“Honestly? Nothing.” Jisung laughs. It’s warm and stirs something like sunlight in his chest. That’s something only Jisung can do— his bright, lovely sunshine boy. “I just missed you and wanted to hear your voice.” 

Fuck. Fuck, he likes Jisung so much. He’s dating him, he should be over this by now, but then he goes and says things like that and he’s overwhelmed all over again by just how _much_ he likes him. 

“That’s pretty gay,” he finally says, settling back against his headboard. 

Jisung snorts. “Well, yeah. I sure hope it is.” 

“Did you want to talk about anything in particular?” Minho asks, running his fingers absently over his sheets. 

“Mmm, I really didn’t have anything in mind. I was just getting ready for bed and realized I haven’t talked to you all day except a few messages this morning and I just… kind of wanted to talk to you. About anything, really.” 

“Okay,” Minho says. “Why don’t you tell me about your day?” 

“Oh!” Jisung lights up like what Minho just suggested is genius, and Minho wishes he could properly explain just how much he loves Jisung’s enthusiasm. “I can do that! Nothing too exciting happened to me today, though.” 

“That’s alright,” Minho says softly. “I still want to hear about it.” 

He hears something that sounds like a door opening and closing on the other end of the line, then footsteps. “Now _that’s_ pretty gay.” 

“I sure hope it is.” Minho slides further down into the bed, letting his head rest against his mountain of pillows. 

“For the record, you’re going to have to listen to me brush my teeth because I’m too lazy to call you back.” 

“Gross,” Minho says, not actually all that grossed out. “Don’t talk to me while you do it.” 

“I’m gonna,” Jisung says. “Because of that I’m definitely gonna.” 

“If I wanted teeth brushing ASMR I could’ve just looked that up online,” Minho complains, but it has no bite to it. 

“But Minho! This is different. This isn’t just any teeth brushing ASMR! This is _boyfriend_ teeth brushing ASMR where a cute boy tells you about his day while he does it!” He can practically hear the dumb grin that he knows Jisung is wearing right now. “This is exclusive content!” 

“Well, in that case, how can I say no?” Minho says, wrapping an arm around himself and letting his whole body relax for the first time since he talked with Changbin earlier. 

Jisung wasn’t lying about nothing exciting happening all day. He goes over his day from the start up until right before he called Minho. It’s a lot of him babbling about little things, a lot of him pausing to think and “umm”ing while he comes up with more things to tell him. 

He also wasn’t lying about being too lazy to call him back, so Minho listens to an entire section of the story— specifically the late afternoon— only being able to understand a third of the things Jisung is saying around the toothpaste in his mouth. Honestly, he has to give it to Jisung for being even that coherent. It’s a miracle he understands that much. Luckily, he doesn’t think he misses much and Jisung doesn’t bother slowing down or coming back to that part of his day after he rinses and starts walking back to his room. 

Minho doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind any of it. He doesn’t mind that the most exciting thing that happened to Jisung all day was him buying the wrong drink from the vending machine. He doesn't mind that Jisung just talked to him while brushing his teeth and he only understood of small fraction of what he said. 

He doesn’t mind at all, and he’s very glad Jisung can’t see the fond, dopey smile that settles across his face somewhere in the middle of the aforementioned boyfriend teeth brushing ASMR. 

Minho has stressed himself out all day, worrying himself in circles about opening up to Jisung, about Jisung seeing through all his insecurities and not liking what’s there. Yet all it took was Jisung happily telling him about his day for him to smile. 

God, this boy really has his heart in his hand, doesn’t he? 

“So yeah,” Jisung laughs after a while, and Minho hears the telltale rustling of Jisung sliding into bed. “That was my day. Sorry it was so boring.” 

“It’s okay,” Minho says honestly. “I wasn’t really in the mood to sleep, but hearing you talk made me want to.” 

“Because it was so boring?” Jisung teases, and Minho rolls his eyes. 

“Sure,” he says dryly. 

Jisung shifts on the other side of the line, trying to get comfortable. It’s not hard for Minho to picture him curling up into himself. He’s woken up to him asleep on the couch with his knees almost up by his chest a couple of times. It’s cute. “Why weren’t you in the mood to sleep?” 

Minho blinks at that. “What?” 

“You said you weren’t in the mood to sleep before. Is everything okay?” 

Ah. Right. 

“I guess I’ve just been a little stressed out today,” Minho admits slowly, picking at the hem of his black shirt. 

“Oh.” Jisung’s voice is soft. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Minho thinks. He really doesn’t, but he also really does. What an unfortunate paradox of feelings he has. Like everything, it comes back to vulnerability. He doesn’t want Jisung to worry about him, doesn’t want him to know how badly he’s been chewing himself up because of his anxiety. 

Which is stupid. Jisung knows better than anyone what it’s like to be anxious. He’s on medication for it, it’s not like he’d judge Minho for his anxiety. 

Probably. Hopefully. There’s still the small part of him that can’t help but worry, no matter how irrational it is. 

“I’ve just been stressed out over some school things lately,” Minho finally decides to say, and that’s true. It’s only part of it, but it’s true. It’s a start. “We’ve been finalizing some new choreography for… a showcase. And I think it’s just starting to get to me because I need it to be perfect.” 

“That makes sense,” Jisung says, and he sounds so gentle and thoughtful that it makes Minho’s heart hurt. “I think it’s normal to get stressed out over things you care about, and I know you care about dancing a lot.” 

Well, he’s definitely getting stressed out over things he cares about, that’s for sure. Not just dancing, though. 

“It’s okay to want things to be perfect, just remember not to push yourself too hard.” Jisung laughs softly. “Take it from the guy with a literal diagnosed problem with anxiety, you’re just going to make things worse if you stress yourself out thinking about it all the time and don’t give yourself a break. It’s good to try your best, but remember it’s okay to stop and collect yourself too.” 

God, Jisung is just good. He’s so good. His absolute mess of feelings is still swirling around inside of him, but Jisung is so kind and thoughtful that it momentarily quiets it down, leaving Minho warm and thankful for him. 

Minho sighs. “How are you so smart?” 

“Seungmin, mostly,” Jisung says instantly, pulling another small smile out of Minho. 

“No, you’re smart by yourself. Especially with feelings,” he says. 

“Well, I don’t know about that. Sometimes I feel like I’m really bad with feelings.” 

“You’re definitely better than I am,” Minho says. “Half the time dealing with feelings is like pulling teeth for me.” 

“That’s true,” Jisung admits, and Minho snorts. At least they both know it. After a moment, Jisung adds, “Hey, you know that if you ever need to talk, I’ll listen, right? I don’t care how bad you are with feelings, I’ll let you try to put it into words and do my best to understand and help.” 

Fuck. Minho loves him. 

“Thank you,” Minho says. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jisung says quickly. “I’m your boyfriend, and beyond that I’m your friend.” 

“Best friend,” Minho quietly corrects, and Jisung giggles. God, he’s so cute. 

“My bad. I’m your best friend. And all of that means that I’ll listen to you whenever you need it, just like you do for me. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Minho agrees. “You’re lucky you aren’t here or I’d be kissing you silly for being so sweet.” 

“You have a car, you could always drive here,” Jisung teases. 

“Don’t tempt me, I’ll do it,” Minho says. 

“Minho,” Jisung whines, and he was kidding but when Jisung whines like that it _really_ makes him want to drive over there and kiss him. “I’m already in bed! I’m sleepy! You’re sleepy!” 

“I’d do a lot of stupid things to kiss you,” Minho says, and Jisung laughs. “But fine. I guess that can wait for later.” 

“Not too much later,” Jisung says immediately, making Minho smile. “Getting kissed silly does sound nice.” 

“Are you free tomorrow?” Minho asks. 

Jisung hums in response. “What, on a Saturday? God, Minho, who do you take me for? The most exciting thing I ever do on Saturdays is watch streamers yell at video games and I will gladly ditch them for you.” 

“I’m flattered.” Minho can’t help but grin. “I have a new movie I’ve been meaning to watch, we can do that together.” 

“And kiss,” Jisung reminds him. 

“And kiss,” Minho agrees. 

“It’s a date.” 

“Oh, is it?” 

“Why not?” Jisung laughs again, and the two of them fall into a comfortable silence. 

It’s nice just being able to lay here like this, neither of them talking but knowing the other is there. It’s nice to hear Jisung’s breath, soft but reassuring. 

He likes being with Jisung, even when it comes to something as simple as enjoying each other’s silent company. 

After a couple of minutes, Jisung says, “Hey, thanks for talking to me. It’s nice to just be able to talk to you about anything, even if I don’t have anything interesting to tell you.” 

“Everything you say is interesting to me,” Minho says easily, because he means it. 

_“Stop,”_ Jisung whines, and god, Minho really, really wishes he could kiss him right now. “I’m going to hang up before I fall asleep on the line again.” 

“That was cute,” Minho says instantly. It was. It was also very funny and he’d teased Jisung about it mercilessly. (There’s also something to be said about Jisung, who adamantly talks about how much phone calls stress him out, being comfortable enough to fall asleep while on the phone with him. Something very cute.) 

“Shut up,” Jisung says. “I’m going to hang up now.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Really, I’m gonna.” 

“Do it then,” Minho says, because he’s always the one who has to end their— 

The line disconnects and Minho blinks. The little shit actually hung up on him. 

Fuck. He’s absolutely in love with him. 

\---

He picks Jisung up at two and the sight of him sliding into the passenger seat feels like getting kicked in the chest. 

Not that Jisung isn’t always handsome. Handsome, cute, hot, whatever. All of the above. The problem is that he’d been looking down at his phone waiting for Jisung to come down from his dorm, so he completely missed Jisung walking up. 

Which means when he looks over, he’s caught off-guard by the pair of glasses that sit on Jisung’s nose. 

“Hey,” Jisung says, reaching over and pulling his seatbelt across his chest. “Sorry I was a little late. My laundry got mixed up with Felix’s last time we did clothes because we’re dumbasses and thought it would be easier to do them in one load.” 

Jisung looks really pretty in glasses. Really, really pretty. They make him look older, a little more serious. They bring attention to how intense his dark eyes can be, and it’s stupid because he’s just focusing on clicking his seatbelt but Minho can’t stop himself from staring. 

Absolutely fucking unfair that he wears glasses and considers them mundane and sometimes annoying, yet the sight of Jisung in them makes his head spin. 

His lack of response seems to finally click for Jisung, who turns to look at him fully, a puzzled expression on his face. “Minho?” 

Fuck. 

“Nice specs,” Minho says, trying to sound absolutely normal. 

He watches as Jisung’s cheeks color, his bottom lip sticking out slightly. “Stop staring.” 

“No, you look good,” Minho says, which is an understatement. 

“I look dumb,” Jisung complains, raising a hand up to cover his face. Minho immediately grabs his wrist and moves it away, making Jisung’s pout grow stronger. “I lost my contacts and have to wait for my new ones.” 

“You absolutely do not look dumb.” Minho gestures outside the car to the parking lot where other students are milling about. “If there weren’t so many people around and I knew you’d get embarrassed, I’d kiss you right now because you look _that_ good.” 

“Shut up,” Jisung says, but he’s smiling wide. “I was going to just leave without them, but I almost tripped down the stairs and broke my neck so I decided against it.” 

Minho snorts, shaking his head as he finally lets go of Jisung’s wrist. “Well, I’m glad you at least know glasses are better than a neck brace.” 

“Just barely,” Jisung says, and Minho rolls his eyes as he buckles himself and starts the car again. After a moment, he asks in a soft voice, “I really look okay?” 

“Yes, you’re hot. And that’s the last time I’ll say it,” Minho says, and he knows he’s absolutely lying. If Jisung needs to hear it again, he’ll tell him it another dozen times— hundreds, if he has to. 

It’s a relief that he doesn’t have to say that aloud. Judging by the smile Jisung gives him, he sees right through him. He always does. 

“Well, if that’s the last time you’ll say it, I guess that means it’s time to shut up and drive. huh?” Jisung tilts his head at him as he speaks, and god Minho really wishes there weren’t people around because he wants to kiss Jisung so bad. 

He’ll get to that. He will definitely get to that. 

“You’re absolutely right. We do have an exclusive movie screening for two, after all. Would be a shame to miss it,” Minho says. 

The thing is, the longer Minho watches the movie he picked out, the more he thinks maybe they _should’ve_ missed it. 

It’s not the worst he’s seen, and in fact he finds great joy in watching horrible movies with Jisung and Changbin. There’s something endlessly entertaining about watching something that’s so bad it loops back around to being hilarious. The problem with this one is that it’s not just bad; it’s outright boring. 

He manages to stomach it for about an hour, which is much longer than he thought he’d last— largely because he keeps distracting himself by staring at his boyfriend, who really does look insanely good in glasses— before even Jisung can’t make the watching experience tolerable. 

“This is really bad,” Minho says finally, and Jisung laughs next to him. 

“I’m glad you said it. You were really excited about watching this so I didn’t want to ruin the mood for you,” Jisung says, setting the pillow he’s been holding down against the arm of the couch. 

Minho frowns. “If you don’t like something you can tell me. We don’t always have to agree, you know that, right?” 

Jisung simply hums in response. “I know, don’t worry. But if something makes you happy, it’s not like I’m going to ruin your fun. Something might not be my favorite thing, but if it’s something you like, I can at least appreciate how much you enjoy it.” 

“Oh,” Minho says, a little caught off-guard by his words. He forgets how open Jisung can be about emotions, especially now that they don’t have to dance around the worry of messing up their friendship by acknowledging their feelings for each other. Back then, Minho thought they were at least on an equal playing field. Now it’s hard to ignore the way Jisung speaks so easily about how he feelings while Minho’s constantly lagging behind, taking forever to figure out how to put into words something that Jisung can say without even pausing to think. “I feel the same way.” 

Jisung smiles warmly at him. “I know.” 

He knows. Of course he does. Jisung seems to have a better understanding of Minho’s emotions than _Minho_ does half the time. It’s a little unnerving if he’s honest with himself, but there’s something strangely comforting about it too. If you grow up hearing you’re weird your whole life, someone finally understanding you hits home a little harder than it would otherwise. 

Minho’s emotions are a jumbled, complicated mess that even he has a hard time dealing with and Jisung has a way of looking at that mess and making sense of it. 

It’s nice. Still unnerving to be read like a book so easily when he’s used to people chalking him up to strange and not digging deeper, but nice. 

He averts his eyes back at the laptop screen. The movie is still objectively fucking awful and the five minutes or so that they watch next is just as bad as the rest. Minho’s about to ask Jisung if he wants to watch something else when the couch cushion next to him squeaks. Before he can turn to look, one of Jisung’s legs is thrown over him as a warm weight settles onto his lap. 

“Hi,” Minho says as he blinks rapidly, laying his hands on the waist of the boy straddling him. 

“Hello,” Jisung says, his signature heart-shaped smile plastered across his face. His eyes are bright and warm, sparkling with mischief. 

“What are you doing here?” Minho asks, and Jisung loops his arms around Minho’s neck. 

“Well,” Jisung says slowly, leaning forward so the tips of their noses brush together. “You see, I came over here tonight for two reasons. One was this movie, which we both agree is very bad. Not even in a fun bad kind of way, just a boring bad kind of movie.” 

“Very true.” Minho’s thumbs brush gently back and forth against the fabric of Jisung’s shirt, right above his sweatpants, making the younger shiver. 

“The other reason I came here, you might recall,” Jisung continues, and his smile gets wider, his dark eyes crinkling behind his glasses— and god, he doesn’t want to say he’s glad Jisung lost his contacts, but he is _so_ glad Jisung had a reason to wear his glasses today. “Is I was promised kisses.” 

“Oh?” A smile of his own spreads across Minho’s face. “I think I remember that, now that you mention it.” 

“Good. It would be a shame for you to break your promise,” Jisung says, voice lowering. And fuck, it’s not fair that he can be this cute when his voice can do _that_. 

“Good thing I always keep my promises,” Minho says before he fully wraps his arms around Jisung’s waist and pulls him closer, until Jisung’s flush against him and he can press their lips together. 

Minho isn’t very good at emotions, that’s true. But kissing? Minho is very good at kissing, or so he likes to think, and judging by the way Jisung immediately melts in his arms when he raises a hand to cup one of his full cheeks and tilts his head to kiss him deeper, Jisung agrees. 

The first few times they’d done this it had been Minho in control. Minho telling Jisung what to do; Minho prompting a dizzy Jisung to tell him what he liked and didn’t like. Not that Jisung was _completely_ inexperienced, but there was a clear difference between them and Jisung had seemed all too happy to let himself be swept away by Minho. 

Now, he’s delighted to note, Jisung isn’t nearly as passive. He still clearly likes Minho leading things but there’s no hesitation when he wants to do something anymore. Minho likes to go slow and take his time and Jisung likes that too. It hadn’t been totally surprising to Minho to realize they both like to slow down and just enjoy kissing and being touched. After all, more often than not their preferences seem to line up. 

But when the lazy kissing goes on for too long, it’s interrupted by the scrape of Jisung’s teeth against Minho’s bottom lip. Minho likes slow kissing, true, but he’s also all too happy to go along with Jisung. 

He leans back against the couch, letting Jisung take control as his fingertips slide under the bottom of his boyfriend’s shirt and linger on the soft skin of Jisung’s waist. Jisung is nothing if not an eager kisser when he’s the one leading and if he’s honest with himself, Minho thinks it’s absolutely fucking adorable how excited he gets. There’s nothing better than kissing someone who obviously loves kissing, and Jisung makes no effort to hide how much he enjoys it. It makes every time they do this infinitely better. 

Jisung pulls back, lips and cheeks flushed a pretty red as he studies Minho’s face. Even in his kiss-dazed state, Minho tries his best to commit this picture to memory because Jisung is absolutely beautiful like this. As Jisung’s gaze runs over his features, it occurs to Minho that Jisung must be doing the same thing. 

He adores him. He really does. 

Minho leans forward again and presses kisses against the squishiest part of Jisung’s cheek, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. He’s sure Jisung must feel it, and that thought only makes him more eager to keep going. He trails kisses down Jisung’s jawline, delighting in the way Jisung sighs happily and wiggles as he nuzzles against his neck, one hand sliding up to tangle fingers in Minho’s dark hair. He tilts his head to the side, giving Minho more room to press a soft kiss against the sensitive skin there. A breathy giggle leaves Jisung’s lips and Minho thinks he could spend the rest of his life coaxing that sound from Jisung and be content. 

A sudden scream makes them both jolt, Jisung going rigid in his lap and tightening his grip on Minho’s hair hard enough to hurt. They look around wildly before Minho’s eyes fall on the laptop, still playing the movie from earlier that has _apparently_ reached a very dramatic and screamy climax. 

“Holy shit,” Jisung says breathlessly, eyes blown wide behind his glasses and he looks back and forth between the laptop and Minho’s face. 

Minho, for his part, simply groans. His head falls back against the couch. It figures. 

“Well, that kind of ruined the mood,” Jisung complains, and Minho snorts, letting his boyfriend climb off his lap and settle against his side. 

“Unfortunately,” Minho agrees with a sigh before leaning forward and clicking out of the movie. “That’s enough of you, I think.” 

“Note to self: turn off movies before making out,” Jisung says. 

“It’s a learning process,” Minho says, flopping back down and reaching up the pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwed shut. 

Jisung shifts next to him, both his arms wrapping around one of Minho’s. Something soft touches his shoulder, and when he opens his eyes and looks over the peachy squishiness of Jisung’s cheek is pressed against the black fabric of his shirt. Wide, dark eyes look up at him behind the wire-framed glasses, sparkling with amusement. 

“Come on, baby, don’t get grumpy,” Jisung says. 

“Baby?” Minho repeats slowly, looking at Jisung with raised eyebrows. 

Jisung laughs. “I don’t know, I’m trying stuff out. Don’t like it?” 

Minho doesn’t like nicknames or endearments. They usually feel off to him, like they’re forced. In his past relationships, he always ended up asking them not to use any. 

From Jisung’s mouth, he doesn’t actually mind it. At least not this once. 

That probably says enough. 

“It’s not bad,” Minho says, glancing away from Jisung and focusing on the screen of his laptop. “Just don’t do it all the time. We’re not gonna be _that_ couple.” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Jisung says smugly, still resting his cheek on his shoulder. “Why use it all the time when I can hit you with it out of nowhere when you least expect it?” 

Oh, he is a fucking menace. A menace who knows exactly how to push his buttons. 

“You’re a brat,” he complains, and Jisung just giggles in response. 

Finally letting go of his arm, Jisung leans forward to start messing with Minho’s laptop. “Did you have something else you wanted to watch? Because if not, I wouldn’t mind watching something we both already like.” 

“No, that was really all I had lined up,” Minho says as he stretches, crossing his arms behind his head. “I thought we’d make it through it and then wing it.” 

“Well, we’re winging it a little bit earlier than expected, but that’s okay. We’re good at winging it.” 

Minho snorts. “Well, we’re okay at winging it. At best. But it works out.” 

“That it does,” Jisung agrees, and after a thoughtful hum clicks on a familiar movie title. 

Minho raises his eyebrows. “_Kiki’s Delivery Service_? Again? Jisung, we’ve watched that twice— three times now— in just the time we’ve been together.” 

“And are you complaining?” Jisung asks, settling back against the couch so he’s pressed up against Minho with a knowing smile. 

“What am I? A monster?” He watches Jisung’s face scrunch up with laughter at his words, a warmth settling over him. Resting an arm around Jisung’s shoulders, he shakes his head. “Just thought I’d make sure you’re okay with watching it this much.” 

Jisung tilts his head so it rests against Minho’s chest. “As if I couldn’t watch this movie every single week and not get bored.” 

“I could watch it every day and not get bored,” Minho says, and Jisung huffs out a laugh. 

“Didn’t realize it was a competition,” he says. 

“It’s not,” Minho says. “There’s no competition because you can’t outdo my love for this movie.” 

“Yeah, well I could watch it _twice_ a day and never get bored.” 

“Fascinating. I could watch it three times.” 

“Well, Minho, I think at that point it’s a problem and not something to brag about.” 

“As if loving Ghibli films too much could ever be a problem.” 

“Fuck, you know what, you’re right. My bad.” 

“Apology accepted.” 

And it’s easy to fall into the lull of each other’s company after that. They both joke, but they do love the movie to bits and have seen it more times than they can count. They know each scene, each line by heart. Nothing surprises them, there’s no need for talking or speculation. 

Minho thinks it’s the silence that him and Jisung settle into sometimes that really defines their relationship, if he’s being honest. They bicker and joke around a lot, of course. It’s one of the things they’re best at and it’s not like they ever run out of things to talk about, not really. They could talk about literally anything and go back and forth on one thing for an hour if they really want to. 

The nice thing about him and Jisung is that sometimes? Sometimes they don’t want to. Sometimes they both just want to sit in silence and enjoy being together and that’s okay. There’s no need to fill the silence, not when the silence itself is so comforting and natural for them. 

Changbin comes back from his shift halfway through, only sparing them a soft greeting before heading to his room to presumably collapse from exhaustion. Minho can’t blame him, he knows how tiring his job at the convenience store has been lately. When Changbin comes in, Jisung barely pays him any attention, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen like the movie is the only thing in the world. 

When the credits finally roll, it’s not a surprise that Jisung’s head keeps falling forward, his eyelids fluttering open and close. Minho would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same way. If he wanted, he could probably fall asleep right on the couch. 

“Hey,” Minho says, gently nudging Jisung. 

“I’m awake,” Jisung mumbles a little defensively. 

“Barely,” Minho says with a smile. 

“Shut up.” Jisung weakly bats at Minho’s arm before giving up and letting his hands drop to his lap. 

“Did you want to sleep over?” Minho asks quietly, and Jisung hums as he curls further into his side, resting his forehead against Minho’s chest. 

“Is that okay?” Jisung asks sleepily, and Minho wraps his arms around his waist. 

In the month they’ve been together, Jisung hasn’t intentionally slept over. Intentionally being the key word, as Jisung has fallen asleep on the couch twice and both times Minho had decided against waking him up. It’s funny, since the thing that kicked off their relationship in the first place was Jisung asking him to sleep over at his dorm. Realistically, there shouldn’t be anything special about asking Jisung to sleep over because of that— but there is, as silly as it seems even to him. 

It’s the difference of them just being friends and them being together— _dating, boyfriends,_ Minho thinks, and it makes his heart do something stupid. It’s the difference between being crammed together in Jisung’s shitty dorm room bed that isn’t meant for two people and the idea of sharing Minho’s bed with all its extra space and still being pressed together. 

Minho is, frankly, as far away from a prude as someone can get, but there’s something about Jisung that completely throws him off his balance. He’s slept with people before. He’s shared beds with flings he’d been more comfortable with before. It’s no big deal. 

With Jisung it feels like a big deal, and if he were less sure about how much he wanted to be with the younger, that attachment— that vulnerability, because it all seems to come back to that— would scare the shit out of him. And it still does, kind of, but he’s sure enough to know that any fear he has is worth pushing through for Jisung. 

Apparently that’s a lesson he’s learning a lot these days. 

“Of course it’s okay,” he says. 

Jisung nuzzles closer, his breath warm against Minho’s collarbones. “Am I sleeping on the couch?” 

Minho tilts his head down to press his face against the top of Jisung’s head, the soft blonde hair tickling his lips as he speaks. “If you want. Or, you could come sleep with me if you’re okay with that.” 

“I’m gonna hog all your blankets,” Jisung says, which he takes as a yes. 

“I’ll shove you off the bed,” Minho shoots back, and Jisung giggles. 

“No you won’t.” Jisung shifts so he can look up at Minho, propping up on his chest. “You’re a big softie.” 

“Slander,” Minho says, pulling away so he can struggle to his feet. Jisung whines in response, reaching out to grapple Minho’s arm to try and keep him from leaving. He laughs, putting his free hand on Jisung’s arm. “Calm down, I’m not going anywhere without you.” 

Jisung relinquishes his grip on Minho’s arm, albeit reluctantly. 

“My legs are jelly,” Jisung complains, wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck as he tries to lift the blonde off the couch and to his feet. He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout, his eyes gleaming in a way that lets Minho _know_ that even in his sleepy state this is calculated. He looks up at Minho with pleading eyes and says, “Carry me?” 

Minho is so weak. He is such a weak, weak, foolish man. 

“Just this once,” he says as he crouches down and pulls Jisung’s legs around his waist. 

“Yay,” Jisung says softly, burying his face in the crook of Minho’s neck so he can feel his lips against his skin, and it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to push Jisung back onto the couch and kiss him silly for how cute he is. 

He doesn’t. It’s very hard to resist doing, but somehow he doesn’t. Honestly, if he didn’t think Jisung would literally fall asleep in the middle of kissing he might’ve just gone ahead and did it. 

As is, Jisung is practically falling asleep in his arms, so that’s no good. 

So he carries Jisung to his bedroom, hoping with all his heart that Changbin doesn’t choose right now to walk out of his room for a glass of water. The last thing he needs is to get teased even more for how easily Jisung turns him to putty in his hands. 

Luckily he doesn’t, and he deposits Jisung on the bed a little rougher than he meant to. Jisung pouts up at him as the bed squeaks. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, and Jisung’s grumpy look slides off his face, replaced by a fond, sleepy gaze. 

“You’re pretty like this,” Jisung says, and Minho’s heart skips a beat. 

“And you are very tired,” he says, shaking his head as he walks back so he can shut the door. When he turns to face the bed again, Jisung has propped himself up on his elbows to look at him. His hair is a mess, half of it in his face. It does nothing to damper the raw affection in his eyes. 

“Yeah, but you’re also pretty.” Jisung pauses, his face scrunching like it sometimes does when he’s thinking. “Not that you aren’t pretty all the time. You are, obviously. But especially like this.” 

Minho raises an eyebrow, hoping that the darkness of the room hides the warmth he feels on his face. “What exactly does ‘like this’ mean?” 

Jisung scoots backwards until his head is laying against Minho’s pillows, his blonde hair fanning out against them. He holds his arms out expectantly and says, “Get in the damn bed and I’ll tell you.” 

“You know that it’s my bed, right? I can get in whenever I want,” Minho says, even as he walks to the side of it. 

Jisung makes grabby motions with his hands. “Yeah, well, there’s a cute boy in your bed who wants to tell you why he thinks you’re extra pretty right now. If you don’t get in, he’s absolutely going to fall asleep by himself and will definitely pout about it in the morning.” 

Minho laughs, holding out his hands to Jisung who promptly grabs him and starts to pull him down onto the bed with him. He lands half on top of him, Jisung making a soft _oof_ sound when he puts all his weight onto him just to be an annoyance. 

“I said on the bed, not on me,” Jisung complains, and Minho nuzzles his nose against Jisung’s cheek before he rolls off, settling against the other’s side. 

“Okay, tell me what you mean,” Minho says, looking at Jisung expectantly. 

“What I mean,” Jisung says slowly, pulling one of Minho’s arms to his waist and settling it there. This close, it’s easy to get lost in Jisung’s eyes. Past Minho would’ve kicked himself for even admitting that. Unfortunately, Present Minho is some kind of lovesick fool. “What I mean is that when it gets really late and you’re tired, it’s like everything about you… softens, I guess.” 

Minho frowns. “I don’t get it.” 

“I don’t know,” Jisung says. “It’s just when you’re sleepy, your voice gets all pretty and quiet. And so do your eyes.” 

“My eyes get quiet?” Minho repeats slowly. 

Jisung laughs a little. “I guess? I don’t really know how to describe it. You can be really intense, but when you’re like this you just seem so at peace. Soft. And that softness is pretty to me, I guess.” 

Huh. 

Minho shifts, scooting closer to Jisung so there’s no room between them. “Now I know you’re tired. I’m definitely not at peace at night.” 

Jisung hums quiety, his eyelids fluttering shut for a moment before he opens them again. God, he’s really about to pass out and is still trying to wax poetic about how pretty Minho is to him. He lifts a hand to Jisung’s face, brushing a piece of hair out of his eyes and behind his ear before settling on his cheek. A sleepy smile spreads across the younger’s face and Minho’s heart does a little flip. 

Jisung’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “I don’t know, whenever I’m with you late at night you’re always so calm and gentle. It’s nice.” 

Well, there’s a reason for that if he’s being honest with himself. And maybe he could use a little honesty. A little vulnerability. 

“Can I tell you something?” Minho asks, and Jisung nods. He brushes his thumb across the fullness of his cheek, unable to stop a little smile when Jisung nuzzles into his hand without a thought. “I think too much at night. Sometimes it’s really hard to sort through all those thoughts and I get overwhelmed easily. It’s not being awake this late that makes me calm, it’s being with you. You make all those thoughts go away for a while, like… like a good distraction.” 

Jisung laughs at that. “A distraction, huh?” 

Oh. That sounds bad, doesn’t it? 

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Minho quickly adds. “I’m not good with words, it’s just— when you’re here it’s like… I don’t know, it’s like—” 

His stuttering is interrupted by Jisung putting a hand over the side of his face and giggling. For some reason it’s enough to make him shut up. “Your face is hot.” 

He really hates that Jisung must feel the way his face heats up even more at his words. “Of course it is, everything about me is hot.” 

“Exposed,” Jisung says sleepily, like Minho didn’t even say anything. Curse him for knowing him well enough to completely brush by his defensive joking. Before he can quip back, Jisung tucks his head under Minho’s chin with a content sigh and any response he had dies in his throat. His voice is muffled against Minho’s skin, his warm breath making Minho shiver. “It’s okay. I know. It’s like everything in your head gets quieter.” 

That’s it. 

He simply drops his arm back to Jisung’s waist and pulls him tighter in response, knowing Jisung understands. 

“It’s like that for me too.” The hand that was on Minho’s face curls around his back, holding him there. As if he’d ever willingly move away. “I’m happy I make you feel the same way. And you know if you ever need… someone to listen to those thoughts… um, I’ll do that.” He yawns, pressing closer. “Sorry. Words are kinda hard right now.” 

“Go to sleep, Sungie,” Minho says softly. 

“Wanna make sure you know I’ll listen.” 

“I know,” Minho says, tilting his head down to press a kiss to the top of Jisung’s head and holding his lips there. “I know, believe me. I know. I’m not good at talking but I know if I need to, you’re there.” 

It’s just a matter of being brave enough to actually try talking. 

“Good,” Jisung says, slotting one of his feet between Minho’s. It’s cute the way he constantly finds ways to move closer. There’s not a bit of space between them now and still he tries. “Sweet dreams, Minho.” 

He smiles against Jisung’s hair. “Sweet dreams, Jisung.” 

He could fall asleep right then if he wanted, he’s tired enough. But he forces his eyes open just to know what it’s like to feel his boyfriend fall asleep in his arms. 

He could do this every night. 

\---

Sunday mornings have always been a time Minho tries to keep for himself. No regular shifts at the library, no classes, Changbin either at work or quietly doing his own thing in his room or on the couch. It’s not out of the ordinary for Minho to get up early and go to the dance studio, or to the gym, or to actually make himself a nice breakfast instead of just grabbing something to go. Sometimes he stays in, but even then it’s usually spent reading or catching up on his dramas. Lately he’s been using the time to work on the choreography for the showcase, be it studying videos of himself and making adjustments on paper or working in the studio for a more hands on approach. Regardless, that’s the way it’s always been. 

But when he rolls over in bed and bumps his elbow against someone else sound asleep, someone who’ll stay that way for what he considers an _unreasonably_ long time, he thinks that maybe sometimes change is okay. Sundays are still his day, but if instead of getting up early he slings his arm around the waist of the boy sleeping next to him and buries his face into the crook of his neck with a content sigh… well. 

Maybe that’s just as good as time to himself. 

He dozes off again for a while, finally coming to when Jisung starts to turn over in his arms, the tips of their noses brushing against each other and making Minho’s eyelids flutter open. 

“Hi,” Jisung says, and his voice is lower and rougher than Minho expects. His cheek is squished against the pillow and the first concrete thought Minho has after waking up for real is how all he wants to do is kiss it. 

“Hello,” Minho says, blinking sleepily at the boy next to him. Jisung is staring at him with wide eyes, his gaze drifting over the features of Minho’s face like he’s trying to memorize it. It’s kind of adorable. “Why are you staring at me?” 

“I’ve never woken up with you before,” Jisung says softly, and Minho feels a rush of embarrassment. 

Of course. He’s woken up with Jisung before. He’d done the same thing Jisung is doing now, studying Jisung’s sleeping face like it was a piece of art he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. He’d been so overwhelmed by waking up with him and feeling like it was _right_ that it finally convinced him to get over himself and admit his feelings. He’d also had to leave for class before Jisung woke up, so the experience had not been mutual— and had lead to an unfortunate misunderstanding but _also_ lead to them finally getting together after months of being idiots, so the good comes with the bad or whatever. 

“Oh,” Minho says, and he’s thinking about whether he should apologize again for that or not when suddenly Jisung’s arms are curling around him and his lips are pressed against his and it’s like everything else in his brain shuts off except for the part that’s about to absolutely lose it over how much he loves being with this bright, beautiful boy. 

Jisung pulls back after a moment, a small smile on his face. “Gotta admit, this is a lot better than my bed back at the dorm or your couch.” 

Minho recovers enough to laugh. “I bet.” 

“So what’s on the agenda for you today?” Jisung asks, one of his hands sliding to find Minho’s and tangle their fingers together. 

What is on the agenda? He’s in the countdown to a showcase, he should probably be working on that. He spent the whole day yesterday hanging out with Jisung and as nice as that is and as much as he’d like to just do that again today, he does need to focus on preparing for the showcase. But looking at Jisung now, fondly looking back at him in his bed, it’s so unbelievably hard to think of a way to tell Jisung that he probably needs to work. And then there’s his promise to Changbin, and all those thoughts about how he wants to get better at opening up, and— 

“I have that showcase coming up,” he blurts out before he can stop himself, and Jisung blinks in surprise. “A showcase that I’m dancing in.” 

“Oh?” Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Do you need me to go back to the dorm so you can work on it?” 

“No!” Not that. He doesn’t want Jisung gone, not when he feels so comfortable with him right now. Comfortable enough that maybe he could— 

Vulnerability. Okay. 

He sighs, reaching up to rub at one of his eyes. “I do need to prepare for it and go over videos and stuff, but if you don’t mind I think I’d really like it if you’d hang out for a while? It might be kind of boring and I might get frustrated because it can be kind of stressful, so you don’t have to, but…” 

He trails off, watching as Jisung looks thoughtfully at him. 

Finally, a small smile spreads across Jisung’s face. “Sure, why not? It’s not like I had anything better to do today.” 

Minho blinks. “Really?” 

Jisung’s laughs a little. “Yeah, really. It’s not like I need to be doing something _with_ you all the time to enjoy your company, you know? I just like being around you even if we’re not anything together.” 

“Oh,” Minho says. “Good. That’s how I feel.” 

“I sure hope so,” Jisung says with a snort. 

“Uh, I have one more thing. One more question— or request, I guess,” he admits. 

Jisung tilts his head slightly, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. God, Minho hopes he lets it stay long. Not that he’d be opposed to Jisung cutting it, he’s seen pictures of Jisung with shorter hair, darker hair— he looks good in anything— but, well. 

Well, Minho’s gay and smitten and Jisung looks very, very nice with his hair like this. 

“What is it?” Jisung asks. 

Trust fall. It’s like a trust fall. He trusts Jisung will care about his interests. He trusts Jisung. 

“I’ve kind of been putting this off way longer than I should’ve, but I was wondering if you wanted to come see me dance at my showcase?” 

Jisung’s entire face immediately lights up and any fear he had is evaporated by the sheer _joy_ on his boyfriend’s face. 

“Really?” Jisung asks, eyes wide with excitement. 

“Um, yeah.” Minho gives him a nervous smile. 

“Oh my god, I’ve wanted to see you dance in person for months now but didn’t want to push you or anything,” Jisung says, and that hits Minho in the chest. Jisung is an open, honest person when it matters, and the way he speaks is so earnest it makes Minho’s heart hurt. 

He’s definitely an idiot. 

“I would’ve asked you earlier but I didn’t want to force you to go to something you didn’t care about just because you like me,” Minho admits, and Jisung reaches out and lightly punches Minho’s shoulder with a look of disbelief. 

“Of course I care about your dancing, dumbass! Even if you weren’t my boyfriend, I’d still want to see it!” Jisung laughs. “The key part of ‘boyfriend’ is the friend part, Minho. Friends care about each other’s interests. The fact that I think you’re hot and want to kiss you every time you do anything just makes me care more!” 

“You want to kiss me every time I do something?” Minho says before he can stop himself, making Jisung roll his eyes. 

“Don’t deflect, you dork. Yes, and we both know that already.” Jisung shakes his head a little before his expression softens again. “For real, Minho. Yes, I care about what you love and want to see you dance at your show. Thank you for inviting me.” 

“Thank you for caring,” Minho says quietly. He wants to remember the way it makes Jisung smile fondly at him forever. 

“So,” Jisung says, “was it really just being worried I wouldn’t be interested that kept you from asking me?” 

Ah. Should’ve figured Jisung would guess there was something else. He’s good at chipping away at pulling apart Minho’s thoughts and seeing everything he tries to keep to himself. It’s a blessing and a curse (and probably for his own good). 

Minho shifts a little, momentarily considering rolling over onto his back so he can look up at the ceiling instead and deciding against it. Face to face with Jisung like this, the younger’s eyes wide and earnest, it’s hard not to feel completely stripped down and vulnerable. It makes him want to pull away, protect himself. 

He also knows Jisung will know that’s what he’s doing, so it’s not like it will do anything but make them both feel bad. 

“Uh, that was it. There was another thing, but it’s even dumber than the first,” Minho says. 

“We say dumb things to each other all the time,” Jisung says, and despite his nervousness Minho can’t help but breathe out a short laugh. 

“You’re right. It’s pretty dumb even for us though.” Minho sighs. “I guess it’s just… it’s not really about the showcase and more dancing itself. Dancing is really important to me. I’m good at it, I’m not going to act like I’m not. I am. But I got good at it because I work so hard and I stress myself out over it. And sometimes I push myself too hard and try to rationalize it.” 

“That’s how I am with music,” Jisung says immediately, then winces. “Sorry. That makes it sound like I’m making it all about myself.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Minho assures. “It’s nice to know you understand, I suppose. My problem is just… I think people think it’s effortless? Like I’m just that good naturally. This sounds like I’m bragging.” 

“I mean, I’ve heard Felix and Hyunjin talk about your dancing,” Jisung says thoughtfully. “They both think you’re super cool.” 

“Can I hold that over them?” Minho wonders. 

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just in the middle of telling me why that bothers you or something?” 

“It doesn’t _bother_ me,” Minho clarifies, and Jisung hums in acceptance. “I’m a proud person. I like hearing that my hard work has paid off. The problem is it’s more… an insecurity, I guess. I stress myself out and push myself too far to get where I’m at and I stay up perfecting everything I do until dawn some days. People think I’m cool or that dancing just comes naturally to me and in theory that’s fine, but me tearing out my hair at two in the morning because I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong isn’t cool at all. Or effortless. Or… anything, I guess.” 

Jisung watches him patiently, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he seems to process what Minho says. 

Before he can respond, Minho rolls over onto his back and covers his face with his hands. “I told you it was stupid.” 

The bed shifts and suddenly there’s a weight on his chest as Jisung takes Minho’s wrists and pulls them away from his face, forcing him to look up into Jisung’s warm eyes. 

“It’s not stupid,” Jisung says gently. “You’re worried you’re an imposter and you’re not living up to the expectations people have put on you, right?” 

One hit KO. 

Minho simply opens and closes his mouth silently as Jisung looks down at him with a kind expression. 

“That’s normal, Minho. It’s not stupid at all.” Jisung shifts his grip on Minho’s wrists until he’s lacing their fingers together, slowly lowering them against the bed and squeezing Minho’s hands reassuringly. 

“I can hide it with other people, I don’t mind,” Minho says slowly, and Jisung nods understandingly. “But with you… I can’t hide that. Once I let you into the part of my life that involves dancing, you’re close enough where you’re going to see how much it affects me. I guess part of me just… liked the idea of you thinking I was cool. And didn’t want that illusion to break.” 

Jisung laughs, dropping his weight onto Minho’s chest and nuzzling his face against Minho’s. “You’re still cool to me, Minho. You’re a dork, but you’re definitely still cool.” 

“I’m being emotionally vulnerable, do you have to call me a dork?” Minho asks, but he can’t stop the little smile from spreading across his face. 

“Yes. Thank you for trusting me enough to be emotionally vulnerable, you dork,” Jisung says, pressing his cheek against Minho’s. “Genuinely, Minho. Genuinely. I think it’s admirable that you work so hard. You’re not deceiving anybody and you’re not an imposter. You worked hard to get where you’re at and frankly, I think it’s pretty damn cool that you care enough about dancing to dedicate this much of your life to it.” 

“We’ll see how you feel about that when I’m moody and stressed out the closer we get to the showcase,” Minho mumbles, and Jisung simply presses their cheeks together harder. 

“You’re a human being, Minho. It happens.” After a moment, Jisung pulls back, settling onto his side again. He tugs on Minho’s hands, their fingers still interwoven, and Minho begrudgingly lets his boyfriend roll him onto his side so he’s facing him again. “For the record, I don’t think I’ve thought of you as cool in a really idealized way in a while. I mean, yes, I think you’re cool. Like I said, you work hard. On top of that you’re funny and charming. But I don’t know, Minho.” Jisung shakes his head a little. “I don’t like you because you’re some… dancing god who’s completely unshakable and suave. I like you because you’re you. I like you because when you really care about something, it’s obvious. I like you because you get this kind of childlike excitement sometimes. I like you because you still get flustered when I call you cute.” 

Minho scoffs at that, ignoring the way the back of his neck feels a bit hot, and Jisung gives him a pointed look. 

Okay. Fair enough. 

“I just like you for you, Minho,” Jisung says, and detangles one of his hands from Minho’s and rests it on his chest. 

“Thank you,” Minho says quietly, because he’s not quite sure what else to say. He’s never particularly been good with words, especially when it comes to expressing his emotions. Luckily Jisung smiles fondly back at him and he’s very grateful the other boy understands him so well. “This is a very sappy conversation we’re having before noon.” 

Jisung’s face crinkles as he laughs. “Yeah, turns out you’re really chatty about feelings when you’re half asleep.” 

“I _think_ the emotional vulnerability woke me up,” Minho says, and Jisung rolls his eyes and leans in, pressing their lips together. 

He smiles into it, warmth stirring in his chest when he feels Jisung do the same. Snaking an arm under Jisung, he pulls the other closer to his chest. 

He’s enjoying tracing his fingers down Jisung’s arm when Jisung suddenly pulls back with wide eyes— and not in the excited way— and it makes Minho pause. 

“What’s wrong?” Minho asks, and Jisung bites his lip. 

“Are your parents going to be there?” Jisung’s voice is soft, the hand on Minho’s chest nervously twisting fingers into the fabric of the black shirt. 

Oh. That makes sense. They’ve only been together a month— at least officially, it’s no secret how long they danced around each other before that— and the topic of meeting parents hasn’t even been broached yet. 

Fuck. Minho hasn’t introduced anyone to his parents before. They’ve poked and prodded a bit over the years to find out if he was dating even after he came out, mostly because he gets the impression they want him to know they’re supportive and want to be part of his life. He appreciates it, he really does, but he’s just never really felt strongly enough about anyone or been in a serious enough relationship for the concept to even be put on the table. 

But Jisung’s put it out there now and Minho realizes that sooner or later, that’s definitely going to be another vulnerability he’s going to have to face. 

(And maybe there’s something to be said about how when Jisung says it, Minho’s brain doesn’t go to _if_ he’s going to introduce Jisung to his parents but _when_, but honestly he’s had his fair share of dealing with vulnerable emotions the past couple of days and he doesn’t think he really wants to deal with yet another new topic too soon so… away it goes for now. For now.) 

At least he has a relieving answer for Jisung, hopefully. 

“Ah, no. They’re both busy that weekend with work, so they’ll just have me buy a copy of the official recording for them like we always do when they can’t make a showcase,” Minho explains, and sure enough Jisung relaxes against him instantly. 

“Oh good,” Jisung says, then stiffens again. “Not that I don’t care about meeting your family! Or— or like I’m happy they can’t make it to see you dance! I just—” 

“I know,” Minho reassures, reaching to cup Jisung’s face and lightly squish it between his hands in the way that always makes Jisung pout. On cue, Jisung sticks his bottom lip out at him. “Don’t worry, Jisung. I get it. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, I’d feel the same about meeting your parents.” 

Jisung gives him those giant puppy dog eyes that make his heart do something stupid. “I really mean it, it’s not like I don’t want to meet your parents. I do, but it’s like… scary, I guess?” 

“I really, really understand,” Minho says, brushing his thumb across the softness of one of Jisung’s cheeks. Their relationship— their real romantic relationship— started off intense from the start, simply because they both had months to dwell on their feelings. Despite only being a month in officially, it’s pretty undeniable to Minho that this is the most serious relationship he’s ever been in with someone. The first person he can kind of see a future with beyond more than a couple of dates and messing around, if he really forces himself to get over his fear and think about it. That said, there is undeniably something terrifying about the concept of meeting parents, and he’s impossibly relieved that Jisung shares the same sentiment. 

“Okay, I just didn’t want to sound insensitive or anything,” Jisung says, and Minho squishes his face again, earning a whine. 

“God, you’re the opposite of insensitive. It’s honestly a little hilarious to hear you say that,” Minho says, and when Jisung looks like he’s going to protest he leans forward and presses a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s lips, effectively silencing him. When he pulls back again, a smile has immediately formed on Jisung’s face. 

“So they buy a recording, huh?” Jisung says. “They record the showcase?” 

“Always,” Minho tells him. “They’re both pretty busy, so they try to make as many as they can but sometimes it doesn’t work out. Luckily the school is good at making sure to record everything for anybody who wants a copy of it— for a price, of course.” 

“Maybe I’ll buy one,” Jisung says absently, and Minho’s brain falters for just a moment before he manages to recover. 

“Why do you need one, dumbass?” Minho teases, and Jisung rolls his eyes. “You’re going to it, remember? Unless you changed your mind and have something better to do.” 

“Oh, absolutely not,” Jisung says. “I just… kind of want a copy of it. Since it’ll be the first time I’m seeing you dance in person and it would be nice to have a reminder of it I think.” 

Minho just looks at him, watching as Jisung looks back, Then he says, “You’re perfect, you know that, right?” 

Jisung laughs. “I’m not, but thank you.” 

“You are,” Minho argues, kissing the tip of Jisung’s nose. “End of discussion.” 

“Man, you weren’t kidding. This really is a stupidly sappy morning, huh?” Jisung says. 

“It’s a little emotionally exhausting,” Minho admits, and Jisung agrees with another laugh. “We kind of just got it all out on the table in one go.” 

“Maybe in the future we should work on spreading this out and _not_ dealing with it all at once,” Jisung suggests. 

“That seems significantly less tiring,” Minho agrees. 

“Anyways,” Jisung says, and Minho watches as he flops onto his back and stretches with a yawn. As he lifts his arms, the bottom of his shirt lifts to reveal his tummy. The hand Minho lifts to poke at it is intercepted with a quick swat by Jisung, who promptly pulls his shirt back down with an eye roll. “If you wanna work on your showcase stuff I’ll absolutely hang around to keep you company for as long as we can both swing it. Just promise you’ll let me take you out for lunch later so you get a break.” 

Minho raises an eyebrow. “I think you mean let _me_ take _you_ out for lunch.” 

Jisung laughs. “No, I’ll pay!” 

“I’ll still be driving,” Minho points out, and instead of indulging Minho’s bickering Jisung pulls the pillow out from behind his head and hits him with it. 

\---

The days leading up to a showcase are always the most stressful. No matter how organized everyone is, it always ends up feeling like an entire production of people running around like chickens with their heads cut off. 

Minho feels more than a little guilty that Jisung gets an up close and personal experience with just how on edge he gets, but Jisung takes it all in stride. It seems like every time he’s on the verge of a total meltdown, Jisung figures it out and swoops in with calming words or a distraction. It turns out Jisung and Changbin are quite a good team when they have a unified goal— in this case, keeping Minho from going crazy from stress. 

There’s only so much either of them can do, of course, and Minho still ends up frustrated and anxious more than he’d like; with both their help, it’s at least more bearable knowing he has two people to fall back on for support. 

On the night before the showcase, Jisung sleeps over and somehow manages to keep him relatively calm. He even manages to get him to go to bed fairly early, which is something he usually struggles with the night before shows. 

Jisung’s presence is appreciated throughout the next day as he gets ready, helping Minho make sure he has everything ready before finally, _finally_, there’s nothing left for him to do but climb into the car with Jisung and drive to the auditorium on campus to get this over with. 

They’re earlier than most people. The building is pretty empty at this point, most of the people already here either staff and crew or family and friends of the dancers who got a ride in together. Minho recognizes a lot of them, but there’s quite a few new faces, most likely from the freshmen. He absently wonders if any of them are Hyunjin’s or Felix’s. He thinks he remembers Hyunjin mentioning his parents trying to attend, but he doesn’t know their faces and can’t be sure if any of these people are them. 

Still, one person here is undeniably familiar. 

Seungmin waves at them when he spots them, fiddling with a camera towards the center of the auditorium. Seungmin gives them a slightly distract greeting as they walk over, continuing to adjust settings. 

With a raised eyebrow, Minho asks, “Did you get wrangled into recording tonight?” 

Seungmin simply shrugs good-naturedly. “Hey, I was gonna be here for Felix and Hyunjin anyways. Might as well take the opportunity to get my name on the credits for the official recording for the dance department.” 

“You know I’m dancing too, right?” Minho complains, and Seungmin rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“And I guess I’m here to see whatever you do too, I guess.” 

“Does that mean you won’t be sitting with me?” Jisung is suddenly looking at Seungmin with wide eyes. 

Seungmin shoots Jisung an apologetic look. “Sorry, I would if I could but this is the best place to film from.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Jisung says instantly. “You do your thing, Seungmin.” 

“I really am sorry,” Seungmin repeats, and he looks like he’s going to say more before a woman with a clipboard who Minho recognizes as someone who works with the lighting scurries up towards him and starts talking quickly about the different lighting that’s going to be used in different parts of the show. He gives them another apologetic look and Minho simply raises his hand in understanding, hooking his arm through Jisung’s and pulling him away. 

“When’s Changbin coming?” Jisung asks after they stop, and he seems calm enough— at least until Minho glances down at his hands where they’ve started to play with the ring he has on, twisting and pushing and pulling it up and down his index finger. Small enough to slip by most people but significant enough for someone like Minho who knows all of Jisung’s anxiety quirks to pick up on. 

“He’ll be here,” Minho assures, settling a hand on the small of Jisung’s back. He knows better than to try to stop Jisung from fidgeting. It only makes him more nervous if he has no outlet and feels like he’s obviously anxious to people around him. “He messaged me a little bit ago to tell me that he’ll be running a bit late because he has to cover something at work, but he’ll be here. I imagine he’ll either be here right before the show starts or a little after.” 

Jisung glances around at the auditorium. “Okay. Should I just… where should I sit? Is there a place where I should sit?” 

“You can sit wherever you want,” Minho tells him, and that seems to make Jisung relax just a little bit. “Just tell Changbin where you’re sitting and he’ll come find you when he gets here.” 

“Okay, I can do that.” Jisung takes a deep breath. “Sorry. There’s just… there’s going to be a lot of people here I don’t know and it’s a little overwhelming.” 

“It’s okay,” Minho says instantly, and Jisung gives him a tiny smile at how quick the reassurance is. 

“I can sit alone in a crowd of people I don’t know,” Jisung says, and it sounds more like he’s convincing himself than Minho. 

“You absolutely can and I’m very proud of you,” Minho agrees, and Jisung nods furiously. As he speaks, he notices someone out of the corner of his eye: a familiar head of dark, curly hair leaning against the arm of one of the aisle seats playing on his phone. Well, he can make this work. “That said, I think I can make things a little bit easier.” 

Jisung looks at him in confusion as Minho gently pushes him forward. 

“Wonwoo!” 

The older boy looks around with a confused expression behind his glasses, blinking as he pinpoints the source of his name. An easy smile spreads across his face as Minho approaches, holding Jisung loosely by the arm. “Minho! Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” 

“I’m going in a minute, I was just showing Jisung around since he’s never been to one of these shows before.” 

“Oh, so this is _the_ Jisung,” Wonwoo says, turning to look the blonde over. Jisung’s face immediately colors. He holds out a hand and Jisung stares at it for a moment before it seems to click, reaching out to shake it. Wonwoo shoots Minho an amused look before glancing back to Jisung. “Nice to meet you. It’s going to be a good show tonight, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.” 

“I’m sure I will,” Jisung agrees quickly. 

Minho lightly taps Jisung’s arm. “Changbin is going to be coming in a little late tonight, so I figured I’d introduce you since Jisung doesn’t really know anybody else that’s going to be here tonight, at least as far as we’re aware.” 

Wonwoo blinks before nodding. “Well, Jisung, if you want you can sit with me tonight. There are a couple of friends that are going to come later, but there’s more than enough seats. You can save a seat for Changbin next to you.” 

Jisung visibly relaxes. “That sounds great, actually.” 

“There’s no problem.” Wonwoo point over his shoulder. “We usually just sit in this aisle towards the middle.” 

From behind the velvet curtains, a familiar face pokes his head out, gesturing wildly to catch Minho’s attention. Minho raises his eyebrow at Hyunjin, the younger boy obviously telling him to hurry up and get backstage already. 

“I think I’m being summoned,” Minho says, and the other two glance towards where Hyunjin is still waving. 

“I won’t keep you,” Wonwoo says instantly, getting up from where’s he’s leaning against the arm of the seat. “I’m gonna go sit down since people are starting to come in.” He gives Minho a pat on the shoulder. “You’ll do great.” 

“Want me to pass any declarations of love onto anybody backstage?” Minho asks with a smile, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes. 

“No, I think I’m good. Endearments have been said and they will be said again later. He can wait a little bit.” Wonwoo shakes his head, turning and walking down the aisle of seats. 

“He seems nice,” Jisung says after he’s out of earshot. 

“He is,” Minho agrees. “I hope you don’t mind me kind of throwing you at him. He’s just a really nice guy and easy to talk to. I figured you might feel better if you at least kind of know one person.” 

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” Jisung says instantly. Then a glimmer of mischief appears in his eyes. “What did he mean about _the_ Jisung?” 

Minho shrugs in what he hopes is nonchalant or at least something close to it. “Oh. Uh, he might’ve heard me talk about the cute boy name Jisung at the library a few times.” 

“Cute,” Jisung says, and Minho rolls his eyes. “The library, huh?” 

“Yeah, he’s another librarian.” 

“Really?” Jisung blinks, the mischief falling away and replaced with genuine curiosity. “I spend a lot of time at the library, how come I haven’t seen him?” 

Minho snorts. “Last semester we had overlapping shifts, but this time around we almost always work different days. _Somebody_ happens to only come in when he knows his boyfriend is working, so I’m not surprised you don’t recognize him.” 

Jisung’s face gets redder. After a moment of just looking at Minho, he says, “Listen, I’m gay, okay?” 

“Thank god, because if you were straight this relationship would get complicated very fast.” 

Jisung lightly whacks his arm, making Minho laugh. “So what’s your librarian friend doing here? Just a fan of the arts or what?” 

“Oh, his boyfriend’s one of the best in the showcase tonight. Keep an eye out, Soonyoung is really, _really_ hard to miss.” 

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Really? So I guess the dancing scene and library scene overlap way more than I thought it would.” 

Minho laughs again. “You’d be surprised. Last semester I had to sit through those two flirting what felt like every day. I swear every single time I turned to look at them, Wonwoo was looking at Soonyoung like he hung the stars in the sky.” 

Jisung hums thoughtfully, a small smile on his lips. “Suddenly I feel bad for all your coworkers and fellow students just trying to study for having to put up with us doing the same.” 

Pause. Minho’s brow furrows. “What do you mean? We aren’t the same as them.” 

“I mean, I don’t know them, but we do sound kind of exactly the same from how you’re describing them.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Mmm, I don’t know, I’ve definitely heard Changbin complain about how you don’t pay attention to anybody when we’re out as a group because you’re busy staring at me,” Jisung teases, and Minho’s frown deepens. 

“I don’t stare,” he says. He doesn’t. At least not a lot. Well, not all the time. Well— 

Oh, god. He’s _that_ person in a relationship, isn’t he? Jisung’s smile widens into a grin, like he knows exactly what Minho’s thinking. “Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything else,” Jisung says sweetly. 

“You didn’t have to,” Minho shoots back, and Jisung cackles at that. He’s stubborn enough where he could probably bicker with Jisung about this for quite a while, but Hyunjin is sticking his head out and waving at him again and this time Jisung seems to notice it too. 

“Seems like you better get going,” Jisung says, face softening. 

“I guess so,” Minho agrees. 

Reaching out, Jisung takes Minho’s hand in his and squeezes reassuringly. “You’re going to do great. You worked really hard and I can’t wait to see your hard work pay off.” 

Minho laughs breathily, squeezing his hand back. “Let’s hope it does.” 

“It definitely will,” Jisung says confidently. “Now get moving before Hyunjin storms out here and drags you away himself.” 

“But that would be so much fun.” Still, Minho reluctantly releases Jisung’s hand and sets off. 

He barely has time to say hello to Hyunjin when he gets backstage before he’s being swept away to get ready. He ends up sitting next to Felix while they do his makeup, the younger chatting idly— more to himself than to Minho, like he’s trying to keep himself calm— about the performance and how nervous he is, how he hopes it turns out well. 

“I don’t know how you keep so calm,” Felix says after they’re done, the two of them finding a spot where they’re not in anybody’s way to sit down and wait. “I know this is only my first showcase but I feel like I’m dying.” 

Minho blinks at that. He’s spent the past two weeks grappling with showing his vulnerability to someone, it’s kind of whiplash to remember that as far as most people know, he seems just as unbothered as he always has. 

He doesn’t think he’s really ready to go through the whole ordeal again with Felix right now even on a smaller scale— literally right before the showcase itself— but maybe it won’t be… awful to be a little honest. 

“We all get nervous before shows,” he says, and Felix looks at him with something torn between surprise and doubt. “I know it seems like a lot of us are used to it, but we worry just as much as you about how we’re going to perform.” 

“Even you?” Felix asks. 

Minho snorts. “Yes. Even me. Even the dancers older than me.” 

Felix hums thoughtfully at that. “Does it ever get any easier?” 

Minho taps his fingers against his leg, mulling over how to answer that before finally deciding on: “It’s less about not feeling nervous and more about being able to handle it better.” 

“Oh,” Felix says, “I was hoping you’d say it stops being nerve-wracking eventually.” 

Minho laughs. “I wish. That would make things a lot more simple.” 

“Yeah,” Felix agrees softly. “Are you nervous right now?” 

“A little,” Minho admits, which is an understatement. 

“How much of that has to do with Jisung being in the audience?” Felix asks, and Minho turns to give him a sharp look. There’s no bite to Felix’s words, no taunting even of the playful kind on his face. Just a genuine, concerned question. 

Right. Minho forgets that Felix is a legitimately sweet guy whose humor involves a lot less poking for reactions than a lot of their other friends. 

“A bit,” Minho says slowly. 

Felix puts his hand on Minho’s arm and pats it reassuringly. “You’re going to be fine! Jisung’s going to love it and think you’re super cool!” 

“How did this come around to you reassuring me?” Minho wonders, and Felix laughs a little at that. 

“Because we’re friends and we can both reassure each other!” Felix grins at him. 

“Are you nervous about dancing in front of Seungmin?” Minho asks. 

“Of course I am, but I’m just kind of repeating the same thing I just told you about Jisung to myself but about _my_ boyfriend,” Felix says. 

“You are going to do good,” Minho tells him, and Felix’s smile widens. 

“We’re both going to do good,” Felix says confidently. Minho hopes that’s true. 

At some point Hyunjin joins them and they chat, the two younger boys practically vibrating with nervous energy. Minho does his best to keep them calm, but eventually their buzzing is too much. Even he has a limit, and their outward nervousness is starting to rub off on him. 

So he takes a walk, which mostly consists of him weaving through the chaos of dancers and crew in the minutes leading up to the showcase. He manages to sneak a peek out of the curtains, mostly to reassure himself about Jisung. 

To his relief, he didn’t just drop Jisung in an awkward situation and then bail. When he finds him in the crowd he’s talking animatedly to Wonwoo— who seems genuinely interested in whatever he’s saying. Jisung’s leg is bouncing up and down like a jackhammer, but other than that restless energy he doesn’t look upset at all. 

He’s further reassured when he spots Changbin sliding in through the doorway, only for one of the crew members to tap Minho on the shoulder and ask him to step back as they’re about to start. 

Minho’s part is in the later half of the show, so to kill time he paces back and forth while the other dancers go up. His aimless wandering comes to a stop when one of the freshmen groups— the one with Felix and Hyunjin— make their way to the stage. 

And they’re good. They’re really good. He’s not too surprised it’s something hiphop, Felix and Hyunjin both fit that kind of dancing well. 

Hyunjin’s moves are smooth and fluid, Felix’s are sharp and powerful. They’re a nice contrast to each other, and the applause they get when they’re done is almost as satisfying as the giant grins on both their faces. Almost. 

Minho has to bat a sweaty Hyunjin away when they come back, the taller boy whining and instead throwing his arm around Felix and draping himself against him. 

While they go to cool off, Minho resumes his pacing. With every set of dancers that go up, it becomes increasingly hard for him to sit still. By the time the crew call his name, he’s about ready to gnaw his own hand off. 

When he told Felix he was a little nervous earlier, he’d obviously been fibbing. It’s much more accurate to say he’s _extremely_, gut-wrenchingly nervous. He thinks that maybe the worst part is the actual walk onto the stage, when it really sets in that this is happening. That he has one shot to do this right. To be perfect. To live up to all the things people think about him. 

To prove to himself that he isn’t an imposter. 

There’s no doubt this time is worse than others— be it because Jisung’s here to watch, or he’s the only one on stage, or because he’s just had a particularly rough and emotional couple of weeks leading up to this. 

The thing about dancing, however, is that there’s nothing Minho loves more. 

He can’t make out the audience in the dark when he finds his position, and when the light hits him as the music starts to play it blocks them all out. It’s like everything falls into place, and nothing else matters but him and the music. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more _right_ than when he lets his body carry him through each step he’s painstakingly memorized. Hours and hours and so many sleepless nights worth of pushing himself as far as he can go, sometimes past that. Days on end of whipping himself into a frenzy over being perfect. Weeks of feeling like he’s constantly at his breaking point. 

It’s all worth it when it finally comes to this. 

He spends so much time running himself in circles wondering if he’s just a fraud, scared he’s not going to be good enough for everyone around him— and then it all stops when he’s actually moving on stage. 

Minho isn’t dancing for anybody else. He’s dancing for himself. 

When the music finally fades out, all he hears is his own heavy breathing and the sound of his heartbeat pounding like a drum in his head. It takes a moment for the applause to register in his brain; it takes even longer to come back to himself enough to scan the crowd. 

When he does, his eyes fall on Jisung. 

His eyes are wide, his mouth parted in awe. When their eyes meet, Jisung’s face lights up in the biggest smile Minho’s ever seen. 

He’d already reached the conclusion that his hesitation to share his dancing with Jisung was stupid a dozen times over, but seeing the pure joy and pride on his face as he looks at Minho is enough to make him reach it another dozen times all at once. 

He doesn’t have as much time as he’d like to just take in Jisung’s expression, ushered off the stage quickly to move the show along. Still, even just those brief moments are enough to make his head spin. 

He practically stumbles off stage into Hyunjin and Felix’s waiting arms, the two of them gushing to him as they help steer him towards the water and a clean set of white clothes that they’ve already changed into. He doesn’t hear much of it if he’s honest, mostly because his head feels a bit like a scrambled egg. 

Still, he’s grateful for their company and affection. He lets them cling to him as they watch the rest of the performances— the solos from the upperclassmen are especially breathtaking. (And Soonyoung steals the show, much like Minho predicted. He figures that even if they didn’t say his name and Jisung wasn’t sitting with Wonwoo, the other boy would’ve figured out this is the dancer Minho told him to watch for.) 

It’s nice watching dancers that are more experienced than him. It’s a reminder that no matter how hard he works, there’s always room to grow. Sure, the strive for excellence is hard and stressful, but it’s part of what drives him to do what he does in the first place. 

After the last performance, all the participants walk out onto the stage one more time in their white shirts and give a final bow. The exhaustion of the night hits him all at once and were it not for the vice grip Felix and Hyunjin have on either side of him, he thinks there’s a good chance he might just fall over mid-bow. 

Backstage, he gathers all his things in his bag at a snail’s pace while his friends chatter beside him, still full of energy. It’s packed, people filtering in and out to congratulate dancers while the crew cleans things up. 

Hyunjin laughs at him when he catches Minho rubbing at his eyes. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Minho.” 

“I’m old, leave me alone,” Minho says, turning his scowl on his friend. He lifts a cold water bottle to his forehead and sighs contentedly. 

“You’re only a year older,” Felix protests. 

“And that one year is enough,” he shoots back. “My back hurts and I want to crawl into bed and sleep for twelve hours straight.” 

“You’re an old man in a young adult’s body.” Hyunjin shakes his head fondly. 

“Maybe I can qualify for the senior’s discount next time we all go for breakfast,” Minho suggests with a smile, earning a loud laugh from Felix. 

“Do you think I’d qualify too?” The three dancers turn to look as two figures shift through the crowd: Changbin followed closely by a wide-eyed Jisung. 

“It sounds like you’re trying to steal my gig,” Minho replies, but his eyes slide off of his roommate and to the boy next to him. Jisung’s face is pulled into a big smile, his eyes twinkling. 

“Hey,” Jisung says as he draws closer, and Minho can’t help but mirror the smile he wears. 

“Hi,” Minho starts. “How was the—” 

He’s cut off by Jisung wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him. Nothing extreme, simply the soft press of lips against each other. By the way the others groan and gag, you’d think they’d started making out in front of them. 

It’s over all too quickly, just a few seconds before Jisung pulls back with a much gentler smile on his face. 

“There are people around,” Minho says quietly, unable to keep the surprise from leaking into his voice. 

Jisung shakes his head hard, eyes bright and warm as he untangles himself from Minho and lets his hands come to rest on his chest instead. “I don’t care!” 

Minho laughs at that. To think Jisung’s spent the past month avoiding kissing him around other people only for his showcase to be the thing that finally breaks through his anxiety. Maybe this vulnerability thing really is good for both of them, huh? 

Speaking of vulnerability, a thought occurs to him. 

Unable to keep the wry smile off his face, Minho meets Changbin’s eyes again before glancing pointedly at Hyunjin, who’s gone back to adamantly talking about the show. His roommate's expression immediately sours, but with a big sigh he gets Hyunjin’s attention and pulls him away by the arm, presumably to fulfill his end of their little vulnerability pact. 

“I’m gonna go find Seungmin,” Felix says with amusement as they watch the two of them go. “It’s been a really fun night. Stressful, but fun.” His eyes shift to Jisung. “Are you coming back to the dorm tonight?” 

Jisung looks at Minho curiously. “Am I?” 

“It’s up to you,” Minho says with a shrug, even as he practically begs Jisung to stay in with his eyes. 

Jisung’s smile softens. Turning to Felix, he says, “Nah, man. I think I’ll probably be home tomorrow.” 

“That’s cool,” Felix says, offering his fist to Jisung who promptly bumps his against it. “I’m thinking tomorrow maybe we could all get together for breakfast or lunch or something and celebrate.” 

“Definitely lunch,” Minho says. “I’m sleeping as long as I possibly can.” 

Felix laughs at that. “Oh, me too! I think I used up all my energy for at least the next two weeks.” He reaches out and pats Minho’s shoulder, giving the two of them a tiny wave. “I’ll catch you two later, okay?” 

And with that he’s gone, leaving Minho and Jisung alone— or as alone as they can be with people still filtering in and out. 

“You really were great,” Jisung says, and Minho turns to look at him again. He’s looking up at him with what he can only call adoration. “I mean… god, Minho. I knew you were a dancer but I don’t think I was ready for— well, for any of that.” 

Minho huffs out a laugh, reaching forward to take Jisung’s hand in his and twine their fingers together. “I’m really glad you enjoyed it.” 

“Of course I did,” he says eagerly. “It was gorgeous! I don’t really know dancing very well but your movements were so smooth and beautiful. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.” 

Unable to stop the big grin from appearing on his face, Minho simply shakes his head before leaning down to pick up his bag and hoist it over one shoulder. “You’re just saying that because you’re gay.” 

Jisung tugs at his hand with a roll of his eyes, pulling him through the crowd towards the exit to the parking lot. “Well duh, I’m your boyfriend. But it’s more than just that! You’re just really good. All your hard work paid off, I think.” 

Something akin to butterflies stir in his stomach. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

“I’ll tell you it again and again if you need to hear it.” 

“No, that’s okay.” 

“If you’re sure,” Jisung says with a laugh. They pass other dancers stopping to talk, some of them holding bouquets. He glances at Minho, a small frown suddenly pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Should I have gotten you flowers?” 

Minho snorts. “You don’t have to get me flowers, Jisung. It’s enough that you’re here.” 

They walk by a particularly grand bouquet of red roses, Jisung’s eyes glued to it so hard that he actually spins a little to look back at it before Minho gives him another tug. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Minho says with a smile, watching as Jisung’s face scrunches up thoughtfully. 

“I wanna buy you flowers,” he declares. 

“I just told you, you don’t have to buy me any,” Minho says as they shuffle through the door and out into the much cooler night air. It’s nice against his skin after so long in the warm auditorium, better than any ice pack. 

“There’s a store nearby that’s open pretty late that has those cheap premade bouquets,” Jisung says, more to himself than Minho. “Are you allergic to any flowers?” 

“I’m not, but Jisung you really—” 

Jisung holds up a finger to Minho’s lips, making him pull away from his hand with a scowl that doesn’t reach his eyes. Jisung simply looks at him with a silly grin. “Then you have no reason to argue with me. It’s my money and it’s pretty on the way to your apartment. Let me spoil you tonight— if you can even call me buying flowers for my boyfriend on the night of his big dance showcase spoiling.” 

“Fine,” he relents, mostly because the way Jisung is so eager to make him happy makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst. “Just don’t get anything too expensive, okay?” 

“It’s not an expensive florist shop, Minho. They’re all pretty cheap for flowers,” Jisung reassures. 

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later Jisung is walking out of a store with a giant grin and a wrapped bouquet in his arms. Minho leans over to open the door for him and he crawls into the car, holding out the flowers so Minho can look at them. After a moment, Jisung reaches up to turn on the inside light so he can see them better. 

It’s undeniably very pretty, a bit like Jisung’s brought a piece of sunshine into the dim car; yellow roses and lilies arranged between white daisies and baby’s breath. 

“This looks expensive,” Minho says after a moment, raising his eyebrow at Jisung who simply hums nonchalantly. 

“Flowers can be expensive. These are nowhere near as spendy as some can be, believe me.” He clicks his seatbelt on before turning off the light, pulling the flowers secure to his chest with a smile. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t spent a frankly unreasonable amount of money on food for me. I think it’s only fair I get to do something for you. Just let it happen!” 

“I am! I stopped to let you buy those!” Minho says with a laugh as he starts the car again. After a moment, he adds, “Thank you. They really are beautiful.” 

“Definitely not the most beautiful thing in the car,” Jisung says sweetly, and Minho’s glad the darkness hides the blush creeping onto his face. 

“Cheesy,” Minho says. 

“What?” Jisung says innocently. “I was talking about myself.” 

“Uh huh,” Minho says, although he can’t say he really disagrees with that. 

The drive home is mostly quiet— not in a bad way. Jisung leans his head against the window and hums along with something playing softly on the radio, Minho tapping on the steering wheel in turn. Their walk up to the apartment is quiet too, Jisung hooking his arm through one of Minho’s as he leans his weight against him. 

The apartment is dark and silent, a quick glance at his phone alerting him to a message from Changbin that he’s going out for a bit to get dinner with Hyunjin since he didn’t get to eat because of his late shift— among other things. Minho snorts as he reads it, finishing sliding out of his shoes and walking over to the kitchen where he promptly drops his bag. He’ll deal with that in the morning. 

“Are Changbin and Hyunjin finally getting their shit sorted out?” Jisung watches him with an amused expression. 

“Hopefully,” Minho says as he pulls at the hem of his hoodie and it hits him again how exhausted he is. Even lifting his arms is hard. 

“Are you all danced out?” Jisung asks, setting the bouquet on the counter. 

Minho laughs as he struggles out of his hoodie. “Definitely. Why do you ask?” 

Jisung’s smile is fond. Gentle. “I was kind of hoping to ask you for a dance.” 

He pauses, turning to blink at Jisung with his arms still stuck in the sleeves. “A dance?” 

“It’s silly. If you’re tired we can just go to bed. Don’t worry about it,” Jisung says with a small shake of his head. 

“No,” Minho says, and takes a moment to finish pulling the hoodie off of him before throwing it onto the couch. He’ll deal with that tomorrow too. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he turns to face Jisung again. “On second thought, maybe I’m not completely danced out after all.” 

Jisung’s smile is positively infectious. All Minho wants to do is kiss that perfect heart shape, and he realizes that there’s literally nothing stopping him. 

So he does, reaching out to take Jisung by the hands and pulling him closer so he can press their lips together. The feeling of Jisung smiling against his mouth makes his heart do a stupid flip and he can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever get used to that. 

He hopes he doesn’t. He likes that Jisung makes his heart do stupid things. 

After a moment Jisung pulls away. He doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead against Minho’s and wrapping his arms around his neck. 

“I’m not a very good dancer,” Jisung warns breathlessly. 

“That’s okay,” Minho says, settling his hands on Jisung’s waist. “I’m a pretty good teacher.” 

“Lucky me,” Jisung says with a smile. 

It’s not dancing, really. Just a gentle side to side that Minho guides them into. He’s too tired for anything else and he knows this is less about dancing and more about wanting to be close. He understands. 

It’s not like it matters anyways, because in the dim light of his apartment, his forehead pressed to Jisung’s as they sway, this is as satisfying of a dance as anything he’s done at a showcase before. 

(And with the added benefit of being with a cute boy.) 

“Hey,” Jisung says, dropping his face so it's tucked under Minho’s chin. When he speaks, his breath against Minho’s throat makes him shiver. “Thank you for letting me into this part of your life.” 

Minho lets his eyelids flutter shut, tilting his head so he can press his lips to the top of Jisung’s head. “Thank you for being so patient.” 

Jisung laughs quietly, one of his hands sliding so he can thread his fingers through the hair at the back of Minho’s neck. “Yeah, well, some things take time and that’s okay. You’re worth waiting for, anyways.” 

(Scratch that— this dance has the added benefit of being with a cute boy who he also happens to be completely and stupidly in love with.) 

“I’ll try to make you wait less,” Minho apologizes, and Jisung shakes his head against him with another laugh. 

“It’s okay, Minho.” After a moment of silence, Jisung adds, “I’ll always do my best to help you, you know. Just like you help me.” 

“I know,” Minho says, pressing a kiss to the top of Jisung’s head. “I appreciate that a lot. I appreciate you a lot.” 

Jisung simply nuzzles closer to him in response, which Minho thinks is perfectly fine. 

“Sorry to make you dance with me,” Jisung murmurs. “I know you’re exhausted. We can stop if you want. I’ll get my dance with you later.” 

“No,” Minho says softly. “Just a little bit longer.” 

The thing about dancing is that there’s nothing Minho loves more. Everything else fades out until there’s nothing but him and the music. But the thing about Han Jisung is that in a lot of ways, he’s always an exception. 

If the stage is where Minho feels he belongs most, swaying with Jisung in his arms to nothing but the music of their own heartbeats is a close second. 

**Author's Note:**

> do minho and changbin even own a vase for those flowers....... you know what, that's yet another problem for morning minho
> 
> ☆ twitter: [LlNOHAN](https://twitter.com/LlNOHAN)  
☆ curiouscat: [lunarminho](https://curiouscat.me/lunarminho)


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